


Hide and Seek

by Casstea



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki steals Q. Bond wants him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, another ‘Bond is a BAMF, Q needs saving’. It’s not my fault, I promise. Loki seems to have gone a little crazy in this, oops.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond/Loki, this is written for fun and not for profit.

“What have you done with him?” Bond growled.

The man who stood in the middle of the room cackled at his comment, a wicket smile spreading across pale white skin. Long fingers twirled a pen in his hands idly, like it was a weapon to be used rather than an inconspicuous piece of stationary.

“Nothing,” the man replied, tapping the pen to his lips as if in deep thought, “yet.”

Bond drew his gun in a blink of an eye.

“You threaten me with that,” the man said, taking an elegant step towards Bond, gesturing like a dancer towards his gun, “that  _pathetic_  Migardian weaponry?”

“It’s not a threat,” Bond sneered, adjusting his grip on the gun, “it’s a demand.”

“You try so hard little Midgardian,” the man whispered, “yet you don’t know what you’re threatening.”

“I can take a guess,” Bond suggested.

“You can?”

“Terrorist,”

“Not quite,”

“Criminal,”

“Considered by some,”

“Murderer,”

“Oh I don’t think so,” the man said, “not yet at least.”

The man walked up, manic smile spread across his face, pressing his forehead against the butt of James’ gun.

“Your precious Q isn’t dead.”

“Where is he?” Bond growled, his temper rising. It had been a week since Q had been kidnapped by an unknown madman who had appeared in the middle of Q branch, grabbed Q, and then disappeared again.

After a week of frantic searching, led by a desperate Bond and MI6, they had finally tracked down the kidnapper to a small warehouse in the Lake District, off a gravel track. Their reports had suggested Q would also be in the building as well.

But he wasn’t.

“You are dealing with powers far beyond your control little Midgardian,” the man threatened.

“Who are you?” Bond asked, pressing his gun further into the kidnappers’ skin. However, the pale man seemed undeterred, showing his bright white row of teeth like a dog would display its fangs before it attacked. There was a wildness in his green eyes, a flash of madness that hid behind cunning and power. He was an enemy that Bond did not want to underestimate, a dangerous foe.

But then, for Q, Bond would walk into the pits of hell itself to keep the wiry Quartermaster safe.

“The pits of hell?” the man jested, making Bond flinch in surprise, “Oh, that would be interesting, I’m sure Hella would give you a warm welcome. But no, Mr Bond, I think you will find something far more interesting for you.”

“Who are you,” Bond hissed.

“You would know me as Loki,” the man said, stepping back from Bond’s gun, “and you will find your precious Quatermaster on the cold wastes of Jotunheim.”

Then, the man who called himself after a Norse God gestured towards Bond, sending him catapulting backwards, tumbling out of control towards the back of the room -

When he connected with the ground again, however, it was not with the concrete floor of the warehouse. Instead, it was with snow and with ice, which bit into his soul like a thousand barbed teeth.

_“Let’s play a game of hide and seek,”_ Loki’s voice whispered to Bond across the icy plains,  _“I’ve hidden the Quartermaster, you have to find him. You win, you get your Quartermaster, I win, I get your souls.”_


	2. Chapter 2

Cold.

It burnt into Q’s bones. It bit into him, like a vice that held him in place. Ropes bound his hands, the skin was probably red raw by now. His hands were cold, he tried to flex his fingers and his toes to prevent cramp. His head felt like it had been struck by a rock.

“Hello,”

The voice was as cold as the snow he knelt in, the breath warm against his cheek. He shook as a tremor went through his body.

“Do you know who I am?” the voice said. Out of the corner of his eye, Q watched the owner of the voice creep round in front of him, his blue tattooed face smiling to reveal the pointed fangs. He cocked his head to one side like a child interested with a toy he would play with.

Q’s teeth chattered, he was too cold, too tired to even think straight let alone answer.

The man, at least Q assumed it was a man, grabbed his chin tightly, forcing Q’s gaze on his own.

“Do you know who you are?”

Q’s eyes widened in fear.

“Of course not,” the other man muttered, fingers still gripping Q’s chin tightly, “You would never remember who you truly are,”

“What?” The word was forced out through Q’s cracked and sore lips.

“It’s you I’m interested in,” the man said, “your intelligence, that mind of yours, you knew you were different from the first day you woke your eyes on that pathetic Midgardian world.”

“Who are you?” Q’s voice cracked.

“You would know me as Loki,” the man, Loki, said, “on your world, in this form.”

“This form?”

“I want to release you from your bindings,”

Loki took his grip from Q’s chin, instead placing it over his forehead.

“Let me show who you are,” Loki whispered.

Q screamed.

x-x-x

James battled against the elements. Snow whirled around him, as he trudged forward.

He didn’t know which direction he should walk in, so he had just picked one and put one foot in front of the other. His feet were wet, his clothes seeping in the cold that swirled around him. He tried to focus on his breathing, trying to keep it even and regulated.

 _Where are you Q?_ he thought, looking at the tattered and barren landscape. He didn’t want to believe what the man who called himself Loki had said, that he would take both of their souls. There was something else, some other reason than a simple game of Hide and Seek going on, and James wanted to know what the hell was going on.

He gritted his teeth and continued to walk.

x-x-x

Images flashed through his mind.

_Who?_

There was a question, he thought, which floated across the abyss of his mind. A small question, a question to which he wanted to know the answer.

Images flashed in front of him. A castle, a crown, mythical beasts, and much more flashed past his eyes. He was standing in a field, talking to a beast with two great wings spreading from his back. He was standing in a city he had never seen, a travelling stick upon his shoulder, and the sense of adventure in his head.

He remembered red and gold, flashing before his eyes. They meant something, something he had lost.

His pulse pounded in the blackness, at least he thought it was his pulse. The blackness seemed to vibrate with every beat, like the skin on a drum with every blow of the drumstick. It provided him with a focus point, something to align his mind.

He stood in a forest.

There were bluebells swaying in the wind, in time with the beat of his pulse. The sun was too bright, as if it had placed a lighting filter over everything he looked at. The leaves on the trees were paler, the colour drawn from them, branches bending in the wind that swirled around him.

“Do you remember this place?”

He turned, facing the man who called himself Loki. Even he looked human here, the blue skin replaced by the pale of a human. Yet the warmth of the sun could not remove the cold gaze of green eyes that stared into his soul.

“I do,” Loki said, bending down to pick a flower from the carpet which laid around them. For a moment, Loki’s face was obscured by his hair. When he straightened, he wore another’s face with tight black curls and accusing eyes. The cheekbones were still there, subtly different enough that anyone wouldn’t notice the real face hiding underneath.

He recognised this face, the face of the man before him. It was connected with a name, drawn from the depths of his mind, a name which whispered across his lips.

“Mordred,” he whispered.

Loki/Mordred smiled at him.

“So you remember this face?” Mordred said, “do you remember the little child you saved? The child who would eventually lead to your precious King’s downfall?”

He did.

He remembered the fire of the battle, he remembered the tears shed next to a lake, the words uttered by his King that left him numb with a feeling he had been protecting his entire life.

 _Acceptance_.

He remembered the boat flaming on the lake, throwing in the sword into it’s watery depths. He remembered the world changing, the undulating land morphing into something his friends would never know. He remembered watching as kingdoms rose and fell, spires that once pierced the sky above crumbling into dust. He remembered the choking smoke which spewed from the chimneys as humanity began to turn itself towards science. Buildings grew taller, the land grew grayer under concrete and pain. He remembered visiting the place he had lost his King at, he remembered the frustration and anger, the  _loneliness_  which had ate into his bones.

It had been rash to use that spell which locked away his memories like someone locking their thoughts into a box and shoving it to the back of their cupboard. He took a new identity, an identity forged by the lack of his magic or his history.

An identity known as Q.

x-x-x

James knew that it was in vain.

He felt his limbs growing numb, his fingers clasped under his armpits for warmth. There was no shelter, just miles upon miles of endless wasteland and show. The biting snow made every breath painful like he had breathed in a thousand tiny razors.

He collapsed to the floor.

 _I am supposed to save you Q,_ James thought, as he tried to crawl forward. Snow hurled into the air by the wind begun to bank up behind his back. He curled up into a small ball, shutting his eyes against the world.

_I’m supposed to save you._

x-x-x

Q awoke.

The world looked different now. He looked upon it with the light of his new memories, the new feelings, the experience of one who had lived for longer than most. He could feel the age creep up towards his eyes, as he regarded the man known as Loki not in fear but in sympathy.

He could see now the desperation in the other man’s grip, the wildness of his eyes which spoke of hurt and pain. He could see the madness which lurked within his soul as well, the black substance which coated the goodness like an oil, dripping onto his heart with every beat of his pulse.

“You,” Q said.

He wasn’t sure what name he should use, he had held many after all.

“Emrys,” the other man replied.

“That is not my name,” Q replied.

“It was once,”

“It is a part of me,” Q conceded, “but my name is not of your choosing.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“What have you done with James?” Q asked, his voice even. There was no cold edge which entered into it, he didn’t need to threaten Loki after all. The God knew who he was, he was the magic of Midgard, of a nature which could rival that of his own. He needed no trickery or fear to coarse the man into cooperating.

“He’s currently dying,” Loki smiled, nodding towards the snow which whirled outside the small window in the corner of the room.

 _Red, Gold, dragon_.

The worlds flew in front of Q’s mind, as he kept his face impassive. With a mere thought, his bond’s came undone dropping away from his hands and feet as he pushed himself to a standing position. His limbs felt sore, although he could feel another force coursing through his veins as well as his blood.

Magic.

“Why did you wake me up?” Q asked, as Loki stood up, “I do not remember you dying with any grievances towards you.”

“You might be needed,” Loki said, smiling as if he was a master puppeteer controlling the movements of many under his touch.

“For what?” Q asked.

“Listen to the earth,” Loki said, taking a step towards Q and staring directly in his eyes. The God was a few inches taller than Q, although Q did not feel intimidated. He had faced worse in his long life.

“Listen to its song,” Loki whispered, “it needs protection.”

“Plan gone wrong?” Q asked.

Loki’s eyes flashed with anger at the comment.

“I would hate for one of the few people who won’t kill me on sight to be destroyed,” Loki said, his voice sounding almost remorseful.

“That’s kind,” Q replied with a smile. Part of his mind was already testing the wards on the room, his mind pressing against the walls for any hidden traps.

There were none.

“Find your King, Warlock,” Loki said, spinning on his foot and walking towards the door, “you are in my debt now.”

“I will be the measure of that,” Q replied quietly, as Loki slid  _through_ the door like a phantom. The God of Mischief must have been severely rattled by whatever threat was levelled at his favourite playground, Earth.

 _That is to be considered at another time,_ Q thought to himself as he shut his eyes. He was a bit out of practise, but it was not hard to look out into the wastelands surrounding him to look for a weak heartbeat of James Bond.

x-x-x

James felt warmth surround him.

He opened his eyes weakly, as he looked up at Q. The other man pulled him out of the snow, holding his body close to the Agent’s. James could feel  warmth spreading through his body, thawing the cold from his skin and bones, washing the tiredness away as it did so.

“Time to go home James,” Q whispered in the Agent’s ear.

“How did you escape?” James’ voice was broken, barley passing over his cracked lips. Q managed to hear, somehow, as he smiled a knowing smile at the agent.

“I woke up,” he replied.

James shut his eyes, leaning his tired head against Q’s shoulder. He felt the world lurch around him, and if had been stronger he would have questioned it further. However, it was only relief that flooded through him when he felt the solid floor of Q branch. He was barely conscious, and he could feel sleep’s long arms begin to take him into its warming embrace.

“Sleep my King,” Q whispered, pressing a kiss to Bond’s forehead, “Sleep.” 


End file.
